


Shaman

by JW_Ross



Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Gen, Shamanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JW_Ross/pseuds/JW_Ross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shaman called Panther-In-The-Sky had been killed before, but this time his coup-de-grace was performed by a young elf new to the game. As one of the top shadowrunners on the street, Panther-In-The-Sky had a reputation to uphold. If word got out that the shaman had been iced by some whelp, his asking price could drop. He was not going to let that happen. He had to find and kill this elf, and double-quick. The only problem is that nothing concerning the 6th World is ever simple.....It's going to be one hell of a ride, hope you have a seat belt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Resurrection

The gun was against my temple, so I felt the click when the elf pulled the hammer back.

"I don't mean anything by this," he told me. "I'm just doing my job, chummer."

"Then do your job," I told him. "Put two flechettes in my head and be done with it."

And the elf did just that.

I have been killed before, and it's the same every time. There is cold blackness at first, so cold and so black that each time it happens, I get scared it's really the end. One final run to the giant megacorp in the sky. But before I doze off for the big sleep, I hear the warm hum of machinery pulsing in the distance. I remember the incantation and I whisper it even though I have no mouth. Soon, the electric motors grumble until they sound exactly like the growl of a dog. I see the spirit totem and he sends me back. Every time, it's the exact same thing.

When I came to, Buzz had lifted me up under the armpits. The ork pulled my newly revived body out of the cold pock-marked street and into the warm embrace of a shadowed alley. By the time I was able to breathe regularly and move my legs, Buzz had shoved a hot pack down my shirt. Once the artificial heat hit my chest I felt better instantly. I tried to stand up but I wavered and shook like a downed power line. Buzz offered me a hand and I refused. After a moment, I steadied myself and stood with a dusty sigh that reminded me of wind blowing through an empty automart lot. I cast a sidelong glance at the dour-looking ork.

"How long was I lying out there?"

Buzz gave a small shrug, "Maybe five minutes."

I nodded, "Did you ice the elf that shot me?"

"Nope," the ork answered in an irritating, nonchalant tone. "I didn't." Buzz saw the anger flash in my eyes and he held out his meaty palms in front of him. "Easy there, boss. In case you forgot he had five other runners with him, and they were all mages."

I smirked, "One of these days you need to learn a few spells, Buzz. Fists and bullets only get you so far in this world."

He inspected his chipped black fingernails and mumbled, "Wise words."

"And you're a wise-ass." I dug in my shirt pocket for a pack of smokes, but there was nothing there. "I need a drink. Let's get the hell out of here."

Buzz made a silent gesture which meant, "After you."

I walked past him without even a glance of acknowledgement and he followed at my heels like the good dog that he was.

The Jagged Nails is the perfect bar for a former dead man to unwind in. It is dark, loud, and full of strange looking characters who all value secrecy. I came in through the little-known back entrance, which only a handful of runners have the clout to do. The first thing I saw was the dancing silhouette of Kitsune. She was tall for a woman and she had long thick thighs like twin pillars of alabaster. The proto-music thumped and she moved with it in slow, rhythmic pulsations as if she were making love to a phantom only she could see. I felt a pleasurable pain in my groin and had a clear vision of Kitsune straddling me with those thighs while she planted soft kisses on my cheek. I roughly cast those thoughts aside and turned away. Later I would seek the pleasures of a female companion, but at that moment I needed a drink. I also needed to see Spatter. I pushed through a writhing mass of zoned-out body dancers and into a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke.

The tables of the Jagged Nails were against the far walls, and they were filled with every sort of shadowrunner you could imagine. At one booth sat a stunted dwarf whose over-sized trench coat bulged with hidden weaponry. At another was a pale elven decker who was jacked into a Fuchi Cyber-7. I knew who he was. He was called Steelflight and though I'd never run with him, I knew good runners who had. A group of red-robbed mages huddled in a corner table, all of them sipped absinthe and shared a hookah of opium. Those were members of The Dark Blade Society, a rather dumb group of occultists who knew very little about the occult. I kept scanning the bar. Finally, I saw him at one of the corner tables - a youngish looking blonde kid in a neon jean jacket. This was exactly who I was looking to find. I walked over and sat next to him. The cushions of the booth felt oddly warm against my skin.

"Hey, Spatter," I said.

The kid looked up with eyes that were way too old for that teenage body. A small smile flickered at the corners of his mouth and he bowed his head. "Hello, Panther-In-The-Sky. Would you like a drink?"

"Very much so. It's been a long evening." I chuckled, but Spatter just looked at me with the same half-happy expression. He raised his right hand and made a gesture of beckoning, a few seconds later a pretty waitress materialized out of the smoke. She had a black star tattooed on her left eye and a red skirt so short it was measured in centimeters.

Spatter reached out and touched the girl's exposed leg, "My dear, I want another Scotch straight up. And my friend would like…"

"Double shot of Old Crow with ice, and give me a beer too." Then, I remembered to add, "Anything but shithauser."

Spatter actually smiled at that last part, "You are classy as always, Panther-In-The-Sky." He patted the girl's ass. "Did you get all that, dearie?" She nodded. I could tell she was smart because she looked scared of Spatter. Most smart people were. The girl vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

I folded my hands on the table. They were still dirty with street scum. Normally I would have at least showered after being resurrected, but not this time. "Spatter, I want to get straight to the point here. I was killed by an elf named Lander about an hour ago. Buzz couldn't ice him because he had five magic users at his back."

"Where is your ork?" Spatter asked.

"He's jawing at the bar. Buzz saw Jake as soon as he walked in and Jake owes him for a gun."

The waitress reappeared with our drinks. She subtly hovered close to me as she sat the glasses down, keeping herself just out of reach of Spatter. As soon as the drinks were placed, she was gone. A very smart girl.

Spatter sipped his Scotch, I downed my Old Crow. I coughed twice, hard.

"Are you okay there, partner? Too much drink for you?" The teenager laughed, which was a rarity for him. I figured he must be in a good mood tonight for some reason which I did not want to guess.

"I'm fine," I said. "Now, like I was saying…"

Spatter held up a small hand, "I know what you're saying, Panther-In-The-Sky. How long have we known each other? You need to find this elf named Lander and ice him double-quick." He took another sip of the Scotch. "You need to kill him sooner rather than later because if word gets out that someone iced the famous Panther-In-The-Sky and lived, your reputation suffers."

I started on my beer. It smelled like meta-cow urine but it didn't taste half-bad. "Reputation is everything to a shadowrunner. I didn't come this far to let mine get soured by some bush-leaguer who had a case of beginner's luck. That elf needs to die messy tonight, by my hand."

"Of course," Spatter tilted his blonde head and regarded me with a look of curiosity, "But, how did this elf - who no one's ever heard of - get the drop on you anyway?"

I leaned back in the booth. "That's one of the things I plan to ask him before I make him gone." I was starting to feel a little drunk. I must have dipped into the Old Crow before the bar had a chance to properly water it down. It made me a little more talkative than usual. "What was that elf thinking? He had to know who I was."

Spatter finished his Scotch and his almond-shaped eyes narrowed, "The run you made was against Aneki. I hear they're mixed up with Drake. That means this elf you're looking for is just a one-way ticket straight to some real heavy-hitters. You want to get into that kind of war for a reputation?"

"Spare me the bullshit, Spatter." Apparently the Old Crow was also making me bolder than I was normally apt to be. "Just tell me where he is and what it's going to cost me."

Spatter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he thought better of it. "How long have we known each other? I will give you this for free, Panther-In-The-Sky, if you promise to go on my next run with me. It's in three weeks, Kosaka United."

"Done. Now give me his location."

Spatter snapped his fingers and a ball of flame flashed on the table in front of me. When it was gone, a small white business card had taken its place. I picked the card up; it was blank save for an address. After I read it, the card disintegrated into dust. I polished off the rest of my beer and bowed my head to the young teenager. He returned the bow. I stood up from the booth and walked back into the cloud of opium smoke.

From over my shoulder I heard Spatter's soft voice carry just loud enough to reach my ears, "I'll see you in three weeks."

I found Buzz at the end of the bar. He was still talking to Jake. I liked Jake; in fact I liked him so much that I had taught him a few things over the years. When he saw me his face lit up, so I knew he had to be pretty well oiled. Most people aren't so happy to see me come around. "Panther-In-The-Sky, Buzz was just telling me how you underpaid him on your last run."

I patted Jake on the shoulder. "That's Buzz's favorite topic." Jake was small, but solid, and he had a crazy mess of bright orange hair. His specialty was as an information carrier, which was the most dangerous game on the street in my humble opinion. Only daredevils and death wishers were carriers, and I always got the feeling from Jake that he was a bit of both. Still, I liked him. He was trustworthy, and trust is the only thing more valuable than nuyen to shadowrunners. Plus he could sling spells and bullets with the best of them.

Jake laughed, "You guys need to let me know the next time you're going to hit the clubs, I miss partying with you and the big fella."

"Will do," I told him. "Are you running any time soon?"

Jake drunkenly nodded, "Yep, as a matter of fact I am. Next week I'm doing some work for Matrix Systems. It's nothing big though, just a forty minute job at best."

That was good. "I've got something lined up with Spatter in three weeks," I told him. "You come along and you'll get your share plus a quarter of mine."

He knew what that meant without having to be told. When you ran with Spatter, it was high risk and high payout. For those jobs, you needed to have your back watched. "I'll be there, for my share and a quarter of yours."

Buzz slammed his beer onto the bar and jabbed a finger into Jake's shoulder. "Boy, with all these runs you got going, I want my money next time I see you! You don't have it and I'm gonna plug up your asshole with your arm!"

Jake reached into one of the pockets of his white trench coat and withdrew a roll of nuyen. "I was just kidding around earlier, Buzz. I have your money. Ease up; I've always paid you in a timely fashion."

The ork ripped the cash out of Jake's hand with a snarl, "You don't know me well enough to pull that drek, boy."

I rolled my eyes at Jake, who just silently grinned. Then, I jerked my thumb toward the exit. "Let's go, Buzz. We have somewhere to be. Take it easy, Jake."

Jake waved at us with one hand while he ordered a drink with the other. Buzz and I walked back out into the night and rejoined the shadows. If I had known how messy this whole affair was about to get, I would have got a double shot of Old Crow for the road.


	2. Retribution

The elf named Lander took another huge toke of deepweed and held it in his lungs for as long as he could. Then, he hacked and coughed until spittle hung from his lips in long white tendrils. He hoped he would start to feel the drug's calming effects soon. The Jazz he took earlier had really done a number on him; he had been hotwired for hours. At least the shaking had finally stopped. When he first got back to his apartment, he had been a twitchy mass of bulging eyes and chattering teeth. Lander looked at his pipe; it was a sky-blue glass piece in the shape of a flying dragon. He brought it to his lips. The elf lit the bowl with a cheap plastic lighter and sucked on the dragon's tail. He coughed again, but this time he finally felt his muscles loosen and he sank deeper into his torn and dirty couch. "That's the one," he mumbled through a mouthful of smoke. His eyelids gained weight and began to shut.

Suddenly, there was a knock at Lander's door. He cringed and yelled out, "Go away, Pickens! I ain't giving you any Dander for free, you goddamned meathead!" Lander giggled despite the aggravation he felt. He started to take another hit, but the knock came again.

Lander pushed himself off the couch and the cheap plastic lighter on his lap fell to the floor. "Goddamnit!" he barked. Lately he hated having to bend over for things; his back was acting up ever since he fell in the shower a week ago. He had been high on Stims and slipped. "Pickens, you son of a bitch, I'm going to jack you square in the eye!" Lander marched over to the door and put one bleary red eye to the peephole. There was only blackness. Whoever was out there was covering it up with their hand. "Pickens!" Lander screeched, "Get back to your hovel, you donk-eyed crump! Leave me the hell alone!" The elf spun on his heel and started to walk back toward the couch.

Before he could even register what was happening, a black hairy arm gripped Lander by the throat and picked him up off the ground. Oxygen was cut off immediately and he gagged and squeaked as his feet flailed away in the air. The thing that held him was a monstrosity. It had arms and legs like a man, but its naked body was more like a cross between a giant fox and a bloated fly. Brown-gold fur covered most of the thing, but long steel-like hairs stuck out near its neck and exposed flopping genitals. Its face was a clicking cavern of mandibles topped with cloudy eyes that simmered like boiling sewer water. Lander's own eyes bulged, but his sight was already starting to go dark. Behind him, his apartment door softly opened and two shadowy figures entered. Just as Lander was about to lose total consciousness, he heard one of these figures speak. The iron grip around his throat loosened. He was still being held by the neck, but now he could just barely sip air into his lungs and he suckled at it like a newborn to its mother's teat. The elf had been lowered so that the tips of his feet were allowed to touch the carpet.

Someone said, "He's our guy."

The elf could not see who spoke, but he gurgled a half-hearted, "H-helpp mee."

The same unknown voice spoke in a language the elf could not understand. The monstrosity walked the elf over to the couch and sat him down upon it as if he were a play-doll being deposited by a disinterested child. Without taking its hand from Lander's throat, the creature sat down directly beside him. Up close and able to breathe, Lander could smell the thing's pungent scent; it was like three month old garbage stuck inside a rotting rectum. The creature stared straight ahead into nothing while its mandibles chirped and chittered. With an involuntary shiver, Lander focused on who else was in the apartment with him besides the monstrosity. It was a man and an ork. The ork was one of the biggest and ugliest the elf had ever seen. He had a deep scar which stretched from the top of his bald head to the bottom of his bulging jaws. The ork's nose looked as pitted and jagged as the side of a mountain, and yellow tusks protruded from around his thick black lips. He wore a grey jumpsuit rigged with harnesses full of bulging pouches. At his side, a T-900 shotgun was slung in a quick-draw holster. If it wasn't for the monster which sat next to Lander, the ork would have easily been the most imposing figure in the room.

As for the man, Lander knew him. He had iced him not even two hours ago. The mages had called him Panther-In-the-Sky, and they had said he was extremely dangerous. They also said that he was a shaman. The rumor was that the five magic-users had worked an entire week to perfect the spell which had trapped this man and allowed the young elf to put two flechettes in his head. The mages had been very specific that Lander himself be the one to kill Panther-In-The-Sky. They had given him an extra 15,000 nuyen to do it, and he had taken it without a second thought. He had never heard of the shaman. Lander, who was never very bright, realized that it had not been the best idea to kill a man that was completely unknown to him. The elf scanned for any sign of injury on the man's forehead, but there was only clear pale skin.

Panther-In-The-Sky stood next to the ork, and both of them looked down upon Lander and the monstrosity. The shaman motioned toward the clicking creature at Lander's left side as he addressed the elf, "This is an old friend of mine. You wouldn't be able to pronounce his name, so I'm not even going to bother with introductions." Panther-In The-Sky smiled and his lips twisted into a thin, malicious black curve. He pointed at Lander, "But you and I know each other. Now here is the hardwire…I am going to do you a huge favor. I am going to be completely square with you kid, and that's more than I ever got on the street." He hunkered down and sat on his spring-heel boots, so he could look the elf in the eye.

Behind Panther-In-The-Sky, the ork silently and bemusedly shook his head, but the elf didn't notice. The shaman continued, "Lander, I came here for a bit of information. There are some things I want to know. I want to know who backed your run against me. I want to know the names of the five mages who were with you when you iced me. And I want to know if you had ever heard my name before this job. If you can answer me those questions, and give me a few extra details here and there, it might turn out alright for you. If you don't answer them, I can promise you it won't be good." Panther-In-The-Sky spread his hands in front of him as though presenting a deck of cards to a mark before asking them to pick one.

The elf licked his chapped lips; his tongue was coated in white crust. When he spoke, his voice cracked and strained with effort. "I have no idea who you are, man. I never even heard of you before tonight…I was…stupid. Stupid to ice you on just their say-so."

"That's a certainty, true enough." Panther-In-The-Sky's cold blue eyes glittered, "Now, who were those five mages you were with? I want their names."

Lander swallowed painfully, "Man, I don't know any of their names! I just met all of them tonight…I only know the one I dealt with directly, their boss…He's the one who set me up on this job, only he wasn't there when I iced you. He called himself Gast." The elf coughed, the white spittle was laced with red. When Panther-In-The-Sky saw it, he drew a symbol in the air with his right hand and the monstrosity let go of Lander's neck. The elf curled into a ball on the couch and started sobbing as he clutched at his throat.

"Did you catch that, Buzz?" Panther-In-The-Sky turned to the giant ork. "Our blubbering friend here said that he dealt with a mage named Gast. Isn't that weird? I believe we knew a fellow by that name once, didn't we?" He was speaking sarcastically, but beneath the sarcasm was barely restrained rage.

The ork's menacing glare instantly fell away, and it was replaced by a deathly pall of fear that widened his eyes and made his distended jaw quiver. "It can't be the same Gast. That Gast was just a small-timer when we ran across him, boss. How could I have known…?"

Panther-In-The-Sky silenced him with a raised finger. "That is why I call the shots. Do you understand that now, you 7-foot tall piece of jackal shit?" The shaman's voice dropped in pitch until it positively dripped with venom. "Three years ago, you convinced me to let that hack mage go, and like a moron I agreed. That soft heart of yours and my trust in your judgement both just came back to haunt me." Panther-In-The-Sky pushed himself back to his feet and took a step toward Buzz, who backed away. It was unnerving to see the massive ork retreat before the tall, skinny pale wisp of a man. "When you and I are done here, you are going to track that third-rate mage down and make him eat his own extremities. And I want photos to prove it, your past actions were those of a third-rate bodyman, so I'm gonna treat you like you were a third-rate bodyman for the time being. And, you're going to get me the names of the other goons he had with him. Is that okay with you? Is that clear?"

Buzz furiously nodded, "I will do that, boss. I will get that done, easy." The ork's face pinched into a look of forced humility. "I made a bad call three years ago. I didn't think Gast would ever come back to bite us like this. He was a sixteen year old kid…"

The shaman interrupted, "Quiet." He turned back to the simpering form of Lander, who quivered like a baby beside the blankly staring monstrosity. "Hey! Kid, stop that crying right now or I'm going to have my two friends here play tug of war with you. One will grab you by your elvish love stick, the other will use your tongue, and we'll see which end tears first."

Lander hacked and wiped his nose and miserably pushed himself upright. He was careful to keep as much space as he could between himself and the horrific entity. The young elf gawked at the shaman with wet, inexperienced eyes. "I'll tell you whatever you want."

"That's a given," Panther-In-The-Sky said. "Did Aneki back you? Was that where the money and gear came from?"

Lander nodded. "Yeah, Gast said that Aneki was looking for new talent, said that if I iced you I would be guaranteed solid work for years. Gave me an extra 15,000 nuyen for it, upfront."

"And you believed that?" For the first time in this affair, the shaman had real sympathy in his voice. There wasn't much of it, but it was there all the same. "You never thought to question why none of them would kill me, or why they would hire a rookie like you to do it?" Panther-In-The-Sky shook his head, "Normally I wouldn't believe someone could be that dumb, but after seeing you up close, I'm starting to. Where did you live before you came to Seattle? Candyland?" The shaman laughed at his own joke, but the rest of the room remained deathly silent except for the chirp of the monstrosity's mandibles. Panther-In-The-Sky's laughter died down to bemused head-shaking and he said, "Alright, I think we are done here."

A little light came into Lander's eyes. When he spoke, both the ork and the shaman could hear the hopefulness in his voice as plain as daylight. "Please, man I know I fucked up here, but the bottom line is you ain't dead. You ain't gotta do this. You let me go and I swear I'll leave the city and never come back. I swear it!"

Panther-In-The-Sky smirked. He folded his arms across his chest and gazed over at Buzz. The giant ork had backed as far away from the shaman as he could and now stood against the far wall. "How about it, Buzz? Do we let this one go too? What's your call here?"

Buzz did not say a word. After a moment of meeting the shaman's eyes, he let his gaze fall to the floor where he pretended to stare at the refuse.

"Now you're getting it, Buzz. That's exactly the response I was looking for." Panther-In-The-Sky turned to Lander and spoke a single word in an alien language. It sounded like the hiss of a grill fire in the rain. In a single, slow motion the monstrosity swiveled its arms and grasped Lander's head with both hands. The elf started to scream. He had a high-pitched voice, and his wail reminded the shaman of the sound an owl makes when it swoops for the kill. Lander kicked his legs and twisted his midsection in an effort to escape, but the monstrosity's grip was molded steel. It increased its hold on Lander until eventually the shaman heard a meaty pop. The elf's skull had just fractured. Lander's body went a little limp at that point, but it still twitched and shuddered like a short-circuiting robot. Then the monstrosity brought the elf's face closer to its own, until Lander's features were engulfed by clicking mandibles. The elf's wail, which had subsided with the crushed cranium, began anew. Only it was louder, more piercing. It continued right up until the monstrosity began to eat Lander's mouth and throat.

About ten minutes later, the carnage was over. Panther-In-The-Sky dismissed his familiar with a slight wave and a quick bark of command. What was left of Lander was splattered on the couch in bloody bits of bone and chunks of flesh. The shaman gave a nod of satisfaction. Without looking at the ork, he said, "Let's get out of this rat hole."

Panther-In-The-Sky was half-way to the door when a call came over his commlink. It was the only bit of cyberware he had, and he almost never used it to make calls. No one called him. It was way too easy to monitor and eavesdrop these days. But this call was private, and it was on a black channel, which meant top-level encryption. At first, he doubted his own senses and asked Buzz in a choked voice, "Are you fucking with me right now?" Buzz looked at the shaman as if he were crazy. His reaction meant the call was real. "Shit," Panther-in-The-Sky mumbled. "Hold on for a second, Buzz. I've got someone on commlink." The ork immediately drew his shotgun and braced himself against the door.

The shaman answered. A face appeared in his vision. It was a young blonde woman dressed to the hilt in a smart suit. She wore wire-frame glasses and her lipstick was the color of clouds. "Hold one moment for Mr. Drake." She disappeared.

"You've got to be kidding me," the shaman whispered.

"Who is it?" Buzz quietly asked.

"It's Drake."

The ork took a deep breath, "We could be in some trouble here, boss."

Panther-In-The-Sky did not respond. A new face had entered his view, but this was no human face. Nor was it the face of an elf, troll, ork, or dwarf. This was the ancient, shining scaled, amber-eyed face of a dragon. Its long mouth opened wide, exposing a lengthy row of teeth, they were the yellow-white of aged ivory but their color turned to obsidian near the root. When the dragon spoke, its voice was as old and tired as mountains. Still, its quiet whisper-hiss carried more power and actual weight than a genetically modified baritone. "Hello, Panther-In-The-Sky," it said to the shaman.

"Well, it has been a long time," Panther-In-The-Sky sounded genuinely shocked, which almost never happened. "You are the one they call Drake? Did you come up with that name yourself?"

The dragon's face cracked and curled into what could just barely be called a smile, "Yes, I did! You know, even with a name like 'Drake' most of these fools have no idea they are working for a dragon. They think I'm some eccentric billionaire who never leaves his private fortress! How stupid these creatures are! Present company excluded of course." The dragon's amber eyes narrowed, "You are not stupid, Panther-In-The-Sky. That is why I let you have the money you took from Aneki, which was my money anyway. You are the only one I would let take anything from me."

The shaman smirked, "You owe me that and more, wyrm, and don't you forget it." Drake started to bluster at that, but Panther-In-The-Sky interrupted, "Just because you're older than me does not mean you can't be indebted to me. And you are. You are indebted to me. Who was it that was broken and bleeding all those years ago? And don't forget the begging, you were begging an awful lot then too. I saved you."

The dragon roared, "So you could take my secrets from me! You brought me back so you could have the knowledge of the dragons! Centuries of knowledge! I have paid you back a hundred times over! Never speak to me of debts, whelp! Never again!"

"Are you done?" The shaman was not impressed by the dragon's display of anger, he had seen it before. "Why did you contact me…Drake?" He said the name with derision.

The dragon immediately calmed himself. "You're going to do a job for me."

The shaman had to choke down a laugh, "Is that so? How do you figure that one?"

"I figure it like this, you already did me a favor by eliminating that dumb elf. Now, you're going to kill someone else for me."

Panther-In-The-Sky yawned; he was beginning to feel exhausted. It had been a long night. "You know what my rate is? Because any job I do for you is going to cost you that amount times ten. You good with those terms?"

The dragon positively snickered, it sounded like dead tree branches snapping under the weight of snow. "I will pay you 3 million nuyen for this. Consider it a gift for past services."

The shaman knew this sounded too good to be true, but he also knew that the dragon was usually straight when it came to money. Dragons usually were. And 3 million would be nothing for Drake. It would be everything to the shaman. "Who do you want iced?"

"In a few days, an unknown courier will be transporting a program for a small company named Matrix Systems. I want you to find out who this courier is, wait till he gets the program, and then burn him out. Leave him dead on the street." The dragon's head swayed back and forth with the movement a cobra makes at the sound of a flute. "When I found out it was you that stole from Aneki, I was thrilled. I had no idea you were in Seattle. You see, I need the best for this job, Panther-In-The-Sky. I need this courier iced, and I will give you 3 million for it, half-upfront. Just give me your account number and you will have the money in less than a minute."

Panther-In-The-Sky gave a tight smile. "I will do the job. Call me back in one hour and I'll have the account information ready."

The dragon was in the middle of saying farewell, but the shaman cut the link on the connection and Drake's image faded from view. He looked at the ork, who had been silently waiting for all hell to break loose. "Let's go, Buzz." The shaman walked toward the door, opened it and began to walk down the hallway.

The ork chased after Panther-In-The-Sky while he re-holstered his shotgun. "What was that call all about?"

"A job. Drake wants me to ice a courier."

The ork looked relieved, "That's all?" He fell into pace a step behind the shaman, "Who does he want dead?"

Panther-In-The-Sky stopped. Behind one of the grimy apartment doors a television blared an old war movie. Bursts of muted gunfire masked the sound of children crying and women screaming at their drugged out husbands. The shaman looked back at the ork, "He wants me to ice Jake Armitage."


	3. Summoning

After the business with the elf and Drake, the outside air tasted like what I imagined a cool mountain breeze must taste like. I sucked the contaminated oxygen deep into my lungs and blew it out in an exasperated groan. The sky was developing a purple-gray bruise in the east. The sun would be up soon. "I'm going home, Buzz," I told the giant ork beside me. "You should do the same. And forget about going after Gast right now. I want you to lay low until you hear from me." I didn't even wait for him to reply. Truth be told, a part of me wanted to splatter the ork's guts on the pavement. I was sick of his face, sick of his voice, and sick of his ever-present smell of gun oil, sweat, and grime. Buzz seemed to pick up on my mood; he quickly and quietly slipped down an adjacent alley and disappeared. I used my commlink to order a taxi, and while I waited for it I watched the sunrise and thought about killing Jake Armitage. I was lost so totally in my own head that when the taxi finally showed up it had to beep before I noticed it was there.

My place was located in the heart of The Barrens. It was a small apartment hidden away in the husk of a burnt-out brownstone. The neighborhood itself was like an ancient boneyard that never received visitors. There was no one else on the street when the taxi dropped me off and I slouched up the building's stone steps and entered through broken glass doors. From there it was three flights of stairs to my apartment. I was so tired that by the time I unlocked my door I decided to walk directly to my bed and fall into it face first. Before I drifted off to sleep, I called Drake on my commlink. I spoke with the pretty blonde woman again. It was a quick conversation.

She said, "Hello?"

And I said, "The bank is Unified Zero, out of Warsaw. Account number 5634901123423." Then, I cut off the connection. Sleep came to me almost instantly. If I dreamed, I didn't remember any of it, and I was grateful for that. My dreams are not the "warm and fuzzy" kind. They are more of the "wake up screaming your lungs out" type. I must have slept for sixteen hours straight at least. When I finally came to, it was night again and I stood up from my bed with all the stiffness of a corpse rising from a grave. I padded to my bathroom, shedding articles of clothing along the way. A flick of an old-style manual switch turned the light on and white fluorescence illuminated my face in the mirror. I was absolutely haggard. I had dark beard stubble on my normally clean-shaven face and heavy black bags under my eyes. When I smiled at myself, yellow film-covered teeth smiled back. I brushed immediately and jumped in the shower. The warm water felt like a million tongues on my body and I visualized a current movie starlet swallowing me with her big-lipped mouth. If I hadn't been so wiped out, I probably would have masturbated, but my mind wasn't in that place so I didn't even bother. I got out thirty minutes later feeling like a new, albeit still slightly worn-down, man.

I put on a black robe and collapsed into a comfy arm chair in front of my only window. It was a wide rectangle of glass that looked out over the sprawl of The Barrens. The view was a desolate one. Dark, empty eco-complexes and ash-spewing factories were all that could be seen. I blankly stared at this sorry excuse for a landscape as I used my commlink to verify Drake had wired me the advance money. He had. A million and a half nuyen was in my account. I was rich, or at least as rich as I wanted to be these days. I never had that much money before in my life, not all at once anyway. I cut the link and sat for a bit, thinking. By paying me that much nuyen, Drake would assume he could just call on me whenever he wanted. I was familiar with the dragon's methods. He may have said it was just one job, but now that he knew I was in Seattle, there would be others. And if I refused to work for him…he could make life difficult for me. I was too old for that kind of hassle. Then there was Jake. I have killed people I called friends before, but I didn't like doing it and tried to avoid it when I could. With all that in mind, I still wanted the other half of my three million nuyen. What I needed was a nice tidy solution to present itself. I needed advice, and I knew just who to ask. The only problem was that the person I had in mind wasn't a person at all. It was a dog.

I sat in the arm chair for a little while with my eyes closed, reflecting upon what had to be done. Even after so much sleep, I felt like I could use more. I was re-energized, but underneath it all was a deep tiredness that no bed could help me with. I was tired of running. The only thing was, running was all I knew anymore. I opened my eyes and stood up. Regardless of my feelings on the matter, I had work to do. I trundled to my kitchen and opened a small closet door in the corner. Inside were various articles of my craft. There was a jar of fresh eagle feathers, a pouch of troll teeth, puma claws, an ork heart in a freezer bag, and a whole heap of other objects intended for one purpose; summoning. But I only needed one thing to reach my spirit totem and that was fresh animal blood. I kept a small cage of mice for just that reason. I plucked one out by the tail and said a quick incantation of sleep. The rat passed out instantly and hung from my fingers as limp as a tiny bag of dog shit. I always felt there was no reason to subject the furry bastards to any pain.

I walked in front of my stove; it was the one place in the apartment besides the bathroom that had tiled floor instead of carpet. I sat down cross-legged and held the slumbering rat in my right hand, close to my heart. Very softly, I spoke several words of magic and then I violently mashed my thumb into the rat's soft belly. It sunk into the flesh until I felt backbone and I let the blood pool on the tile below. The sound was like sticking a knife into a freshly opened can of jelly. It did not take long to drain the small creature, and after that I threw it like a basketball into a nearby trash receptacle. Then, still using my right hand, I began to draw a symbol with the blood. It was like a square but with subtle bends and arcs. Inside the square I made several small dots and a swirl, it sort of resembled a diagram of the solar system. After that I spoke a long incantation, a song in a nearly forgotten tongue. I felt the room begin to darken and I knew the veil between the worlds was thinning. When I finished the chant, I laid down on the floor with my head in the center of the square. I felt the still warm blood of the rat against my shaven skull and I closed my eyes.

At first there was just cold blackness, but then I felt heat begin to build all around me. Black turned to smoldering orange and red. Flames burst to life and formed a cradle which picked me up and carried me into the Sixth World. I saw a host of colors and shapes above, and some of them transfigured into bizarre, breathing colossi who loomed over me, inspecting with cold, ancient eyes. But soon the cradle of flame brought me to my destination, a cave of dark, warm, flickering candlelight. I was laid upon the ground gently and the flame dissipated. Here was the home of my totem spirit. I stood up and took a few steps deeper into the cave. A low growl stopped my advance and I sank to one knee and bowed my head.

"Greetings, Panther-In-The-Sky. Why are you here?" The voice that came to my ears was a gravelly growl with even more weight than the heavy grumble of a dragon. Unlike a dragon, compassion was in this tone, but there was also an unearthly quality that made one feel as if they were speaking with a being outside the normal flow of the cosmos.

I raised my eyes and saw the dog. He was the size of a Rottweiler, but his head resembled that of a Labrador. His fur was the color of ash after a cremation. His eyes were twin rubies. I said, "The dragon, Nrrhgxiing, calls himself Drake now and is working with Aneki. They're cooking up something big, but I don't know what. Drake wants me to kill a friend for a large sum of money, and I don't want to do it. But I want the money."

The dog shook its great head and the twin ruby eyes regarded me with fondness. "Ah, Panther-In-The-Sky, all of this is known to me. I have foreseen it. I know the real problem you face, old friend, and it is not Drake, nor is it your friend who must die." The dog's mouth arched into a smile, "You no longer want to be in this sort of business. You want to retire."

I laughed and stood. The dog approached me and I looked down at him with a humility I never showed any living being. "I do. I'm tired. And I'm sick of you."

The dog's laughter was like the grinding of stones. He was positively tickled at my reply. "Yes! I know the feeling! I'm sick of you too! Who wouldn't be?"

"I was only joking," I smiled. "I get the feeling you aren't."

"Oh Panther-In-The-Sky, you were always so sensitive. I told you, I have foreseen these things." The dog lay on its stomach with its paws in front of it, more regal than any picture of any king I ever saw. "I have a solution that will give you your money and get rid of both Drake and Aneki for you. More importantly, it will keep your young friend, Jake Armitage, from being written out of your world. How does that grab you?"

I shrugged, "It sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?"

The dog stated simply, "The catch is you are done. I am through with you after all this plays out."

I considered this. On one hand, it was exactly what I wanted. On the other hand, my powers would be greatly diminished without my totem spirit, and it wasn't easy to find one like the dog. "Fine," I said. "After this, I'm done."

The dog gave a nod, "Yes. Good. I have decided Jake Armitage will be my new disciple. He reminds me of you when you were young. Only Jake has much more potential, the magic runs quite strong in him. He is a natural shaman."

"I agree," I told him. "You always did make good choices with your help. Jake will work out well for you."

The dog raised himself off the ground and shook his body, dust and ash formed what looked like a living force field around him. "Of course it will work out, I have foreseen it. You just have to kill him first."

I raised an eyebrow, "I thought you said I wouldn't have to."

"I never said that. But don't worry; Jake will not stay dead for long. I will see to it." The twin ruby eyes of the dog flared, "Now, sit down here before me, I have much to tell you of my plan."

I crouched down just inside the mouth of the cave and listened to the dog. His plan was simple and brilliant. The best part was that my role was fairly easy. When we were finished conversing, the dog brought the flaming cradle back and it carried me home. I awoke to find my head stuck to the floor with dried rat blood. It was late-afternoon, night had passed. I peeled myself off the tile and took another shower. When I got out, I sat down in my comfy arm chair with only a pair of boxers on. I used my commlink to call two individuals; Buzz and Kitsune. I told them we had to meet somewhere more private than the Jagged Nails; we had to have a serious talk.


End file.
